


that's it, it's split (but you'll recover)

by Anonymous



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Adopted Children, Aftermath of Torture, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Dark Past, Familial Love, Familial Relationships, Families of Choice, Family, Family Dynamics, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda, Kinfic, Late at Night, Love, Night Terrors, Nightmares, No Incest, Not A Fix-It, Not Beta Read, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Past, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Past Violence, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Recovery, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, i know the eye colour is different frm canon, i wrote this fr one of my alters, in this house we hate martin brenner, martin brenner bashing, martin brenner hate, shut up, you fucking freaks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 23:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15448425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He was woken up by the sound of glass shattering.Hopper comforts El after a nightmare.





	that's it, it's split (but you'll recover)

He was woken up by the sound of glass shattering.

He sighed, still tired, and threw off his blanket before padding to the door to her room. He knocked gently as he entered. "El? What's, uh, what's- what's goin' on?"

She looked up at him, hugging her knees. She said nothing as her grey eyes pierced him with a silent plea.

He sighed again through his nose, sitting on the bed and holding out an arm to her. She scrambled into his embrace. His shirt was soft and smelled like detergent.

". . . Papa," she said finally. Her voice was so quiet he wasn't sure he'd really heard her at first.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No!" Her shoulders trembled slightly. "Not Brenner."

He furrowed his brows together. "Whaddya mean, kiddo?"

" _Papa_ ," she said again. She held him tighter, then looked up to meet his gaze. "Thank you."

The realization hit him like a train. He pulled her back into the hug. "I love you too, Elly," he whispered, and he kissed her head through her dark curls. "You okay now?"

She nodded, but didn't release him.

"You want me to stay here?"

She nodded again.

"Should I sing to you?"

She shook her head. "You're bad at it."

"At least you're honest," he chuckled. She laughed a little, too.

"Want me to read to you?"

She thought for a moment, then pulled away, retrieving the old, dog-eared copy of  _Farenheit 451_ from the bedside table and resuming her position under his arm. She listened intently as he read to her, but didn't fight when sleep came for her again. 

He lay her down, covered her up, and kissed her forehead, leaving the book on the nightstand before he went to retrieve the dustpan and brush.


End file.
